We are down to the final countdown with only 2 weeks left before we begin our 2 year around-the-world adventure. We should be excited, but we’re not. With a trip of this magnitude we should have everything perfectly scheduled and know exactly what needs to be done. Yet, we are like a deer in the headlights; frozen, and not knowing what to do. We have been like this for the past few weeks and we find it to be a very strange feeling. We are lost in Limboland; a place neither here, nor there. We continue to go to our jobs; our daughter goes to her school. Life goes on just as it always has, yet, everything is different and it has us confused. The only things we now own are the items that we are taking with us on our trip and one vehicle, which will be sold before flying overseas. We are transitioning from our “normal lives” to the life of full time world travelers and we are finding it difficult to live in the transition. We have been uprooted, but still unable to leave. It’s all so strange.

We have had 5 years to plan our trip and in that time I have read countless blogs and books on other people that decided to travel long term and none of them talked about this transition period. They all went from working and owning a home to full time world travelers. Nothing was ever mentioned about this weird in-between transition period, so it is a bit of a shock to be going through it. I had always assumed that we would be happy, full of energy, and ecstatic in the weeks before leaving. But we are just the opposite. We feel numb and disconnected from reality. Our departure date is fast approaching and we are scrambling to remember what we are supposed to be doing these last 2 weeks. We are lucky that we will have a month of travel in the USA before flying overseas, as if we did forget something important, we will have time to take care of it.

We are confident that the weird funk we are in will go away as soon as our adventure begins on November 1st. At that point we will be able to focus on our new lives; the lives of full time travelers. We will finally be free to wander the world and visit the places that we have always dreamt of seeing. We will establish our new schedule of travel, photography, home schooling, and writing. Life will be simple and easier than it is now and we should be able to finally relax and enjoy ourselves as we follow our dreams. But until then, we wait in limbo…

Right after purchasing our house, 12 years ago, we stopped at Home Depot to buy house-remodeling supplies; something that would become a common occurrence. I can’t remember exactly what we were buying on that day, but as we walked towards the front doors we came across a lady with a box of free kittens. Not able to resist, we stopped and peeked inside the box at the cute little fur balls. One of the kittens stood out from the others. The first thing that set him apart was that he was an orange tabby, while his siblings were shades of gray, black, and white. The second thing that set him apart was the fact that he had seven toes on his front paws. Multi-toed cats, or more commonly referred to as polydactyl or Hemmingway cats, are curious freaks of nature, but not too uncommon. But we had never seen a 7-toed cat before. He was definitely unique. Kerri said something about getting him, but I shrugged it off and said we already had one cat and a dog and started heading into the store. As we entered, I looked down and noticed Kerri was still holding the 7-toed orange freak. I really put my foot down this time and told her to return him. Reluctantly, she turned and walked out to return him to the box and I started searching for what we had come to purchase. She caught up with me a few minutes later still holding the cat. She said that the lady with the box was gone. To this day I am not sure if that was the truth or just a convenient way to get another cat. But, we took him home and named him Spock. He was named after the famous Star Trek Vulcan as the orange polydactyl had an opposable “thumb” that looked like the “live long and prosper” V-shaped hand gesture.

As a kitten he was a terror! He would spray inside the house, beat up our other cat, and scratch the furniture. I contemplated getting rid of him on several occasions, and almost went through with it. We finally had him neutered and shortly after that, our other cat, Gilbert, died suddenly from a blood clot. It was either the neutering or the shock of watching his friend get buried in the backyard, but all of a sudden Spock became the nicest cuddly cat ever.

Over the years Spock became the neighborhood Alpha male and developed a slight habit. He loved to eat birds! His oversized mitts were perfect for snatching birds out of the air and he would eat everything but the few feathers that fell out. I have had cats in the past that would leave a headless bird on the doorstep, but not him. He ate everything every time. Well, almost every time. Our neighbors across the street were bird lovers and had many bird feeders in their front yard. We nicknamed their bird feeders “cat feeders” as it was a popular spot for the neighborhood cats to hang out and wait for a crunchy snack to land at those feeders. One day our neighbor came over a bit “upset” as he found a dead bird that had been left on the front seat of his pickup truck. Our cat was blamed! But was it really him, or perhaps another “cat feeder” patron? The truth will never be known. Spock developed a bad reputation and nobody seemed to really like him but us.

As we got closer to going on our family around-the-world trip we had to figure out what to do with our cat. My uncle Gar, who happened to live on 20 acres in the country, offered to take him. Gar had been our house and pet sitter since we had purchased our house and had loved our pets as much as we did. In fact, our Beagle actually liked Gar more than she liked us. We thought Spock would love his new home living in the country with lots of crunchy birds to eat and plenty of free space to roam. When visiting Gar we had noticed other cats at the neighboring farms, so he could have friends. We knew he would have a very happy life there and Gar would take great care of him. We loved our cat so much, though, that we were really hoping to get him back after our travels and flying him out to wherever we decide to relocate to. But the thought of taking him back after a couple of years with Gar would probably be hard on my uncle and the cat, so we were thinking the best thing for both of them would be to let him live there and we would pay any vet bills that arose. And then the unexpected happened. Gar died 2 months ago after being hit head on by a drunk driver while out riding his motorcycle with a friend.

After Gar’s death my mom, who lives in Idaho, offered to take Spock. She already has a cat and two dogs and we wanted him to go to a good home so it seemed like a smart choice. After my uncle’s memorial Spock was placed inside an animal carrier and placed in my mom’s car for the trip back to Idaho. He seemed fine until the door was closed and then he looked scared. I asked them to roll down the window and we comforted him and told him we would see him in a few weeks. We watched our beloved cat head off down the street.

My mom gave us updates as they drove back to Idaho to assure us of his safety and after he got there. We felt bad about giving away a member of our family, but he was going to a good home and we would see him again. They kept us updated about how he was dealing with the other cat, which they became friends and even sent us videos. But the dogs did not like him.

A few days ago I had a dream about our cat, Spock. In the dream he got into a small tub of water and just sat there; something strange for a cat. I could not figure out what he was doing, but he seemed content. And then he was on the back patio of our old house wearing a black top hat and dancing around. The dream was very strange and I woke up wondering if Spock was okay. Later that day my mom let me know that Spock had ran away and they could not find him. I wondered if the dream was some kind of psychic connection of our cat looking for us. It has now been over a week and they still cannot find him. They have gone door-to-door, posted flyers, and online ads; yet nothing. Hopefully he has a new home with some kind people that will care for him. But, none-the-less, we plan on walking the neighborhood over there when stop to visit next month and hopefully he will come out and say goodbye before we fly overseas. He was a great cat and will be missed!

On Monday I gave notice at work. For the past four days I have been trying to figure out how I feel about that. I have worked for the same employer for 12 years, been planning to do long term travel with my family for 5 years, and have been blogging about it openly on the internet and on social media for the past 2 years. Yet, not one co-worker knew about it and it came as a total shock to everyone; just as planned. I had always wondered if someone would stumble across our blog and ruin the surprise, but it never happened. I had fantasized about giving notice for 5 long years and had always wondered about how it would go down. But, the day came, the dirty deed was done, and the day ended. And now I can’t figure out how I feel about it.

The Dirty Deed

I had planned to give notice the day after the sale of our house was finalized. No sense giving notice and having the buyer back out at the 11th hour and then try to tell my employer than I am actually going to be sticking around for a bit longer. That could have been ugly! The house was finalized last Thursday and Kerri told her boss that day. I was planning to give notice the next day, which was a Friday. They say it is best to fire someone on a Friday, as they are less likely to go postal. I figured that might be the same for giving notice. So Friday it would be. Unfortunately, I woke up Friday morning sicker than a dog (where did that saying come from?) and had to call in sick.

On Monday I showed up to work and saw that my supervisor was out for the day, and the director had called an emergency staff meeting at 9am. Perfect time to drop the bomb! I went to see the Human Resources Manager and told him I needed to discuss something, but since I was still pretty sick, he probably didn’t want me in his office. I told him I would send an email. In the email I told him that I was officially giving notice and when my last day would be, and then explained that I was not quitting because of another job offer, but because we are taking a 2-year sabbatical to travel around the world. The first word in his response was, “Wow!” The next was about being jealous.

At 9am I went to the staff meeting. We just had two long term managers quit; one was offered another position elsewhere, and the other retired. This has caused some chaos around the office and this meeting was to try to find some stability. The irony! Throughout the meeting I tried to figure out what I would say while my heart was pounding with the anticipation and excitement of the situation. At the end of the meeting, when everyone had discussed what needed to be discussed, the director asked if anyone had anything else to say. I cleared my throat and said, “Yes, I do. Today, I am officially giving notice and my last day in the office will be October 31. My family and I will be taking a 2-year sabbatical to travel around the world.” There, I had said it. I glanced around the conference room and everyone’s eyes were huge, their jaws slack, and then, almost in unison, everyone said, “Wow!”

Over the last 4 days word has spread at work and everyone keeps telling me congratulations and telling me about their own secret desires to do what we are doing. I keep hearing the term “Wow” and “Jealous” and I keep wondering if this will start a new trend and others may take off on their own sabbaticals. Why wait for retirement, right?

How I Feel

I keep trying to figure out how I feel about giving notice after 5 years of planning to do so. I was so hoping to feel elated and free. To be free to openly discuss our plans that I had kept secret for so long and not having to worry about a co-worker accidentally finding our blog. To be escaping my cubicle to see the world instead of reading about others doing what we wanted to do. But truth be told, I just feel sick. Not the kind of sick of the, “Oh my God, what have I done?” variety, but more of the virus type. I have a really nasty cold that has turned me into a walking snot factory. My body aches, I have no energy, and I just want to sleep. Maybe I will feel elated next week…

Today our daughter is celebrating her 8th birthday; a day we’ve been waiting over 5 years for. But what is so special about 8, you may ask? At 5 you enter school, at 13 you become a teenager, at 16 you can drive, but what happens at 8? For us, and many other travelers, 8 is a very special age. This is the perfect age for a child to travel the world.

Years ago, when we were avid sailors, we read every book, forum, blog, website, newsletter, and magazine we could find on sailing; and especially anything we could find on families cruising around the world. We were planning to go cruising as a family for a year or two in the Caribbean, and possibly wherever else the trade winds carried us. When a family decides to take their kids cruising the first question asked is, “What is the perfect age to take a child cruising?” Although kids of all ages have sailed around the world on their parent’s boats, the general consensus was that 8 years old was the perfect age. Old enough to lend a hand on the boat, old enough to remember the trip, a good age to be homeschooled easily, and not too old that they will hate being stuck with their parents for 24 hours a day on a small boat. That age sounded good to us, so we made a decision to go cruising when our daughter turned 8. We refinanced our house to pay off the principal quicker and setup a savings plan that would have us leaving around that time frame.

But shortly after making the decision to go cruising, disaster struck. The mast on our sailboat broke and came crashing down causing lots of damage to the boat. Fortunately, Kerri and 2-year-old Sydney were safely down below in the cabin. Our crewmate and myself, who were on deck at the time, were lucky to not get hurt by the falling mast and rigging. After dealing with the boatyard, insurance companies, lawsuits (long story), and a drained bank account we soon realized that one mishap while cruising could easily break us physically and financially. We started looking at other options and started looking into buying a barge and barging through Europe using the well-maintained canal systems. But, a boat is a boat, and you can only stay in Western Europe for 90 days before you need to leave and wait another 90 days before re-entry. We would like to try barging through Europe at some point, as it does sound like a great adventure, but it wasn’t going to work out for long-term travel. After looking at all of the options we decided to do what we know how to do best; travel as tourists! Not only is it a more flexible option, you don’t need to worry about the upkeep costly repairs of a boat.

We decided to keep with the same time schedule and leave when Sydney turned 8. Even though we were not going cruising on a boat, 8 years old still seemed like the perfect age for world travel. Old enough to carry her own bag, old enough to remember the trip, a good age to be homeschooled easily, and not too old that she would rather be hanging out at the mall with her friends.

When Sydney was 2, her 8th birthday seemed so far away. It’s amazing how fast the time has flown by. In just 10 years from now she will be leaving for college and starting her own life. We are really looking forward to spending the next 2 years traveling and spending quality time with her. The adventure and memories we will share as a family will truly be priceless.

Twelve years ago this month, we had nearly given up on finding an affordable house to buy in the Portland area. I had just graduated college that June, had a good job at an engineering consulting firm, and Kerri and I were to be married that November. Life was perfect; except we needed a house. We had been living in the very hip and desirable Belmont/Hawthorne area on Portland’s eastside. We really enjoyed that area, but could not afford to buy a house there. We had spent the entire summer touring homes for sale in and around the Portland Metro area. Many were nice, but out of our price range. The ones that were in our price range were scary and just short of being condemned. Yes, our house purchasing budget was that low. And then just as we were ready to commit to being long term renters, our real estate agent called saying the owner of a house in SE Portland had just drastically cut the price on their house. We went and toured the house, and liked what we saw. The house was a 1973 single story ranch style home. It had 2 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, a single attached garage, and a small manageable yard. The house had been built by a retired couple, and once they finally moved into a retirement home, their daughter purchased the house and used it as a rental home. But why was it so cheap? Because the house had never been upgraded and looked exactly as it had in 1973. It was a solid house, just outdated. It had avocado green appliances, yellow tub, toilets, and sinks in the bathrooms, brown wood paneling, linoleum flooring in the kitchen and bathrooms, and cheap “rental” carpeting in the living room. But I think the biggest thing that scared people away was the yard. The retired couple that had built the house wanted a maintenance-free yard. So, they planted juniper bushes in the entire front yard, covered the rest of the yard with bark dust and surrounded the house with a metal chain link fence, as was popular at that time. It would require a lot of work to make the house and yard look nice, but we were up for the challenge. So, we bought it.

We have spent the last 12 years updating our “outdated ranch” into a very modern and comfortable home. We literally bulldozed the yard and started over. We gutted the interior in stages, as we could afford it, and updated the house room by room. We added an outdoor hot tub, water feature, granite kitchen counters, hardwood flooring, and many other upgrades. We love our house and are very proud of the work we have done. I know the new owner will love it as well. The photos above are of our finished masterpiece; the same photos used to sell the home. We will miss it, but look forward to our next project… wherever that may be.